


A Friend In Need

by ClothesBeam



Series: Burn Bright, Burn Fast [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-05
Packaged: 2018-05-30 22:07:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6443716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClothesBeam/pseuds/ClothesBeam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodimus is 'coping' post Overlord Incident in a way that's all too familiar to Trailcutter. Luckily the <em>force field</em> guy is also the <em>look after others</em> guy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Trailcutter scowled at the glass in front of him, trying to ignore the fact that Rodimus was sitting at the other end of the bar. He still wasn’t too chuffed about being taken for granted as the ‘force field guy’ yet again. And it was especially hard to ignore him since they were the only two sitting in Swerve's this late.

Swerve walked past him again with a cloth and spray bottle, and paused to lean an elbow on his side of the bar. “So, you done for the night, big guy?”

Trailcutter glanced down the bar, watching Rodimus stare unseeingly into his drink and stir it non-stop with a straw. It didn’t look like he would be moving any time soon.

A few weeks ago this hadn’t been an unusual scene, especially from the mechs who had lost close friends to Overlord’s rampage. It wasn’t something that could be gotten over quickly, but most of them were at least apt at moving on after a bad mission. But based on the way Swerve was treating the situation, he guessed Rodimus had been doing this for a while now.

“Yeah, I guess I am. You got anything I can dilute all this with?” he asked, patting his chassis over his fuel tanks.

Swerve rinsed his glass and filled it with the usual clear liquid. He leaned in so he could wipe away the circle of moisture the glass had left on the bartop. “I already tried talking to him. He’s not acting like himself,” he said quietly, barely audible over the soft background music.

It was more likely that he’d tried talking _at_ him, Trailcutter thought privately as he downed the glass' contents. “You’re trying to close, right? I’ll see if I can get him to move along until the next shift cycle.” He handed the glass back again before standing. Trailcutter needed a moment to let his tanks settle and his processor clear, but he managed to make his way over to Rodimus in a relatively straight line after that.

“Hey, Captain,” he said, glad the slur hadn’t come back.

“Hmm?” Rodimus grunted as he glanced up at him, pausing in his stirring at last.

“You ok?”

Rodimus glanced back down at his drink and sighed. “Fine.”

Trailcutter smiled wryly. “For some reason, I’m not convinced. Wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

Trailcutter rested a hand on his hip and drummed his fingers against his side. There wasn’t really much he could do with an answer like that. “Ok then. Wanna get out of here so Swerve can actually close for a few hours?”

Rodimus glanced down the bar, seemingly only just noticing that he was trying to finish packing up for close. “Fine. Can’t have anyone thinking I’m worse than you.”

Trailcutter folded his arms defensively. “Just hurry up,” he grumbled.

Rodimus looked at him out the corner of his optic as he upended his drink, pouring all that was left down his intake at once. The captain winced a little. Trailcutter could tell from the smell that it was strong stuff.

“And at least I’m not dumb enough to take on more than I can handle,” he muttered as he held his arm out for Rodimus to take hold of if he needed it. Or rather, when he was ready to admit he needed it.

“Well, the sky’s the limit for you, isn’t it?” he snapped. He staggered into the bar as he tried to get up.

Trailcutter didn’t snap back when the golden hand landed on his arm. “G’night,” he called to Swerve as they made their way over to the door. Swerve gave his usual wave.

Most of the lights were dimmed down this late in the shift cycle. The two of them made their way down the empty and quiet corridors slowly. Trailcutter knew he wasn’t exactly sober himself, and didn’t mind the slow pace. Rodimus’ quarters were on the way to his hab, anyway.

“I didn’t think you’d be a snide drunk,” he commented lightly as they rounded another corner.

Rodimus grimaced and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I’m not. ‘t’s circumstances,” he mumbled. “The Overlord thing’s all my fault.”

“I know I’m not one to talk, but even if that is true, getting pissed isn’t going to help,” Trailcutter replied.

The further they went, the more of Rodimus’ weight ended up resting on him. It wasn’t like Trailcutter minded, given how tiny the average speedster was compared to him. Rodimus wasn’t exactly a burden.

They came to an unsteady halt when they reached Rodimus’ quarters. “You can still input your code right?” Most people could try all night, but of course the captain’s was set to trip on the third incorrect try.

“Yeah, yeah,” Rodimus muttered, managing to get it right the second time.

Trailcutter decided to lead Rodimus inside when it looked like standing on his own two pedes was still going to be a bit of a challenge. They went over to his berth so he could sit down and get his bearings back.

As Rodimus sat, he dragged a hand down Trailcutter’s thigh. Given how bad his balance was right now, and how short he was, Trailcutter didn’t think much of it.

“So what d’you want?” Rodimus asked, looking him up and down and letting his legs open a little wider.

Rodimus’ hand lingering high on his thigh was his first clue into what the other mech had probably been thinking since they’d left Swerve’s. The optics on his interfacing panel were the second.

Trailcutter spluttered. “I just brought you here to make sure you and Swerve would get some rest this shift cycle!” he said indignantly. “You’re so drunk right now it isn’t funny.”

Now, if Rodimus had made an offer like that when they were both _sober_ … But he didn’t let his thoughts linger there for too long. Like it was ever going to happen.

For the first time that night Rodimus actually smiled a little. He beckoned Trailcutter closer with a single finger.

“What?” he asked warily as he leaned over. If Rodimus tried to do anything inappropriate for whatever reason, he could probably foil his plans just by holding him at arm’s length, he supposed.

Rodimus kissed him on the nose. At least, he probably would have if he hadn’t missed and landed on his visor instead. “Thank you, Trailcutter.”

“Whatever. If you remember this in the morning, I might change my mind,” he muttered as he leaned back again quickly. He thought twice about trying to wipe at the little smudge of oral lubricant interrupting his visual feed. He didn’t have a cloth on him and he didn’t want to leave any scratches. Hopefully no one else was wandering around at midnight. “Night, Rodimus.”

“Night,” he replied, finally lying back on the berth properly.

After he’d left the room, Trailcutter felt his spark flutter slightly as he made his way to his own hab suite. He wasn’t sure if he was hoping Rodimus would remember all of this tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

Trailcutter sat with his feet up on the desk, one hand behind his head and the other holding a datapad in his lap. He glanced up from the words on the small screen and checked the security monitors. Chaos, as usual. Well, maybe things were a _little_ more chaotic since Rodimus had announced his involvement in the Overlord Incident that morning.

He wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that himself. He hadn’t known Drift all that well, but still felt it was unfair that he’d been attacked on his way out. No one had attacked Chromedome because of his bereavement, but that was more pity than forgiveness, wasn’t it?

He hadn’t seen Rodimus around since he’d walked him back to his quarters last week. Trailcutter was beginning to worry about him.

He dropped his feet off the desk and turned quickly when the door opened behind him, not wanting another lecture from Magnus about dirt. He was glad to see it was only Skids. “I’m here to relieve you!”

“Huh, it’s that time already?” he asked as he checked his chrono. And sure enough he’d daydreamed another shift away. That probably wasn’t a good habit to keep when he was rostered on security so often these days. And what exactly was he supposed to report to Magnus, if he wasn’t paying attention?

Skids smiled wider and nodded as he approached the console Trailcutter was sitting at. “Yup, already.”

Trailcutter pushed away from the desk and stood, making his way around Skids. “Probably see you later tonight, then,” he replied as he sauntered out the door and made his way to the command offices.

“Later!” Skids called, and adopted a similar sitting position.

Smiling to himself, Trailcutter made sure to subspace the datapad before stepping down the command corridor. He saw Ultra Magnus’ door was open, as usual. He’d only been hovering around it for a moment before the second in command glanced up and acknowledged him. “Nothing amiss, I trust?”

“Just the usual shenanigans,” he confirmed. “The captain seems… withdrawn, though.”

Magnus’ expression clouded. “I’ve been meaning to discuss that with you, actually.” Trailcutter tried to not look too surprised. “I heard through the, ah, ‘grapevine’, about what you did for him a small while ago. It seemed to improve his mood significantly, and may even have caused his confession today. Perhaps you could conduct a follow-up? I know he’s in his office now.”

Trailcutter nodded. He’d go on welds duty in the middle of a quantum jump if it meant he didn’t have to fill out an extensive report on an uneventful shift. Of course he’d ‘follow up’.“I’d better go do that now then,” he said lamely.

“Though it’s not standard procedure, your report can wait until afterwards,” Magnus conceded.

Oh well, wasn’t his fault if he had a bad memory and could only fill it out in brief, right? “Yes sir.”

Trailcutter turned back to the hallway and made his way to the next office up. Rodimus’ quarters were attached to the office, since the captain was never really off duty. He approached the door, feeling it might be prudent to knock. The door opened for him once he had.

He saw Rodimus hunched over his desk, looking tired. Trailcutter briefly wondered whether he’d been recharging properly. “What’s up?” Rodimus asked, sounding nearly as bad as he looked.

“I haven’t seen you around lately,” Trailcutter replied, walking over to the desk. “You’re on the same shift cycle as me, aren’t you?”

One corner of his mouth tweaked upwards as he shrugged. He looked a little guilty now that he’d realised Trailcutter wasn’t here because of work. “Officially, yeah. Don’t really feel up to the bar or the rec room, though.”

Trailcutter was a little surprised he was being treated in such a friendly manner, after last time. Then again, Rodimus had to have remembered a lot of what had happened, based on what Magnus had said.

He could also see Rodimus hadn’t cleaned himself up properly for a while. As though he couldn’t be bothered.

“Could I maybe give you a polish or something then?” He glanced away, expecting rejection. It was a pretty intimate thing to suggest, after all.

Rodimus pushed his work aside and glanced up at him. “That would be nice, actually.”

Trailcutter smiled as Rodimus stood and walked over to the door that led to the private part of his quarters. He followed and peered inside, only to see soft berthcovers rumpled up in one corner of the slab. It wasn’t normal to have bedcovers on all the time, and they were often used for comfort, or to avoid scratching a recently touched up finish.

Given the current state of Rodimus’ finish, Trailcutter could guess which one it was.

But, Trailcutter had been there before. He casually put his hands on his hips and said, “Hey, why don’t we go the whole hog and detail you top to bottom?”

Rodimus glanced at him and shrugged. “Sounds nice, but it’d take hours.”

“Eh, I don’t have anywhere to be right now,” he replied. It was just going to be, well, the usual, otherwise.

“All right,” Rodimus replied with a vague hand gesture as he turned toward his private wash rack. Trailcutter followed him inside and saw an impressive array of equipment lined up along the edge of the stall, opposite the standard hose.

Rodimus reached for the bucket and chose his preferred cleanser, emptying a generous amount of it inside. He unwound the hose from the wall and turned the tap to fill the bucket. While Rodimus waited for it to fill, he selected a soft sponge and unfolded a chamois. Trailcutter closed the door so he wouldn’t accidentally spray water into Rodimus’ living space.

“I suppose it’ll be easier for you if I’m in my alt-mode, right?”

Trailcutter grinned. “Easier for you to foist all the work onto me, sure!”

“Well, that’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” he said, not quite carrying the tone of a joke.

Trailcutter approached him and hesitantly rested his hands on Rodimus’ upper arms. “I’m here because I’m worried about you.”

“I appreciate your concern, I really do. But I just feel like I’m taking from you and not giving much. I don’t know what you’re expecting from me, but…” Rodimus trailed off.

Trailcutter leaned forward slightly, trying to stay in Rodimus’ field of vision. “I have zero expectations for anything,” he replied. “Well, except that I’ll be wanted for my force field. You know how it is. But apart from that, none.”

Rodimus reached for his wrists and pulled his arms away so he could look at the generators on Trailbreaker’s palms. “I’m sorry,” he said, stroking the domes with his fingertips.

The larger mech shivered and registered a flicker of yellow-orange around them, though it was easier for him to feel than see given the colour filtering of his visor. “‘s ok,” he muttered.

Rodimus glanced around before realising what had happened. He smiled gently and gave his hands a squeeze. “Well, maybe that’s why.”

“It happens sometimes. Especially when I’m near someone I’m trying to protect.”

Rodimus’ face fell again. “Like I said, I really don’t have anything to offer you other than optic candy and tips on annoying Magnus.”

Trailcutter shook his head and sighed, slightly exasperated. “That’s not true! I mean, Magnus seemed pretty worried about you a minute ago. He even let me push back paperwork to come talk to you.”

Rodimus broke away from the intimate hold with a snort of laughter as he turned off the tap, since the bucket that was now overflowing. “That important, huh?”

“Yeah, you’re our leader. You’re not perfect, but no one’s expecting you to be. Or, at least, I’m not,” he corrected, knowing for sure that not _everyone_ felt that way.

“Well thanks, I think,” he replied as he moved to stand near the hose, and transformed down.

Trailcutter dragged the stool that was sitting near the other equipment over to Rodimus’ side. It was far too small for someone of his size, but it was better than kneeling on the ground for who knew how long this would take.

Trailcutter reached for the sponge and began cleaning Rodimus’ main panels in sections, while his other hand rested against the speedster’s side carefully. The task was mindless, while still requiring just enough attention to keep his mind from wandering too far. It was surprisingly relaxing to wash someone else for fun, and not just because they were too injured from the battlefield to do it themselves.

Once Rodimus was sufficiently covered in soap, Trailcutter reached for the hose again and let the liquid sheet over his frame. Once the bubbles had all gone down the drain, he turned his attention to Rodimus’ wheel wells.

“Sheesh, they’re almost as bad as mine!” he teased as he changed the hose head for something that’d give a high pressure spray. They were going to need it.

“Humph, whatever,” Rodimus muttered. His aloof air soon changed when his wheel wells started getting blasted. “Teebs!”

Trailcutter grinned, not minding the old nickname. He aimed the spray at a different section and heard something that was definitely a giggle. “What?” he asked innocently.

When he moved the spray back and forth inside the next well, Rodimus started laughing out loud. “Turn the damn pressure down!” he said between interruptions in his vocalisations. “You’re the worst!”

“Huh?” Trailcutter asked as he got up from the stool and walked around so he could do the wheels on the other side. “What was that?”

Rodimus rocked from side to side as much as his limited suspension would allow as he continued vocalising his laughter. When Trailcutter finally finished with the last wheel well, Rodimus seemed to sag in relief, still letting out small sounds of amusement every now and then.

As Trailcutter put the hose back and turned it off, Rodimus transformed back and stood up. Trailcutter was glad to see the smile on his face again. He reached past the smaller speedster and picked up the chamois.

“You, me and a high-pressure hose are never allowed in the same room again. Captain’s orders!” he said, lightly swatting Trailcutter’s arm.

The larger mech just grinned and draped the cloth over Rodimus’ head. “Just finish cleaning your bot parts already.”

Rodimus indignantly moved the cloth aside and picked up the sponge out of the bucket. He worked on his face and hands while Trailcutter started drying off his back. Rodimus worked quickly, moving on to rinse himself off again already.

His plating was beginning to look normal again, but Trailcutter guessed he usually waxed or polished quite often. “So what’s next?” he asked as he made his way down Rodimus’ waist, leaving the hip components for him to do himself.

Rodimus took the chamois when it was offered and finished drying off his top half. “My rotary is broken, so we can just leave it here. Now that I think about it, it’s kind of embarrassing that I haven’t even been, well…”

“It’s ok, I’m already in the zone,” Trailcutter said lightly as he leaned over to see what Rodimus had available. He raised his brow when he saw the brand on his wax tin. “So there are people who actually spend that much on wax?”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m a bit vain, usually,” Rodimus muttered, rolling his optics. He leaned forward to dry the runoff liquid on his legs, making extra sure that he was dry around all his transformation seams and crevices.

Trailcutter grabbed the tin and the cloth, and got to work spreading it evenly over every inch of Rodimus’ armour plating. He remained mindful while doing the simple task, and they fell into a comfortable silence. When Trailcutter reached for the microfiber, Rodimus took the cloth he’d been using to apply the wax and spread it over his chest plate, then his pelvic structure.

When Trailcutter could see himself in Rodimus’ back and shoulders, he left Rodimus to continue looking after himself while he searched for a brush with soft bristles that he could use to make sure there wasn’t a build-up of wax forming anywhere.

It took a while, but he managed to locate it. He turned back, only to find Rodimus struggling to check the work he’d done on removing the wax smudges from his behind. “I didn’t get it all, did I?” he said, deadpanning at the amused look on Trailcutter’s face.

He laughed quietly. “Er, no. Not at all.”

The captain grinned slyly. “Give a mech a hand, won’t you?”

Trailcutter rolled his optics at the obvious ploy, but couldn’t really see a way to get out of it. Then again, he had to have a mirror for this kind of thing somewhere. Usually Rodimus was rather shiny _everywhere_ … He told himself there wasn’t time to go looking.

As he began rubbing small circles into his backside, Rodimus bent over with the wax covered cloth in his hand and started applying it to his thighs and shins. Not that Trailcutter was complaining about being given even more of an eyeful, but he wasn’t used to dealing with people who were so shameless.

By the time Rodimus was done with his legs, Trailcutter had removed all of the unsightly streaks his blind attempts had left. When Trailcutter’s hands left him, Rodimus turned back with a smirk. He lifted his leg and rested the tip of his pede on the stool in between Trailcutter’s legs.

“You really are quite good at this, Teebs. Won’t you keep going?”

Trailcutter felt his temperature rise sharply and rested his gaze on Rodimus’ thigh. He did indeed keep going, glancing up occasionally.

Rodimus looked happy and relaxed. It was more genuine than anything he’d seen from his captain so far. Even if it was only in a small, temporary way, he was glad he was able to do something to help.

Rodimus leaned forward and kissed him. He didn’t miss this time.


End file.
